


Strong Man

by Balder12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Desk Sex, M/M, Manhandling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balder12/pseuds/Balder12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt at <a href="http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/">SPN Masquerade</a>:  "Kevin's embarrassed to admit it, but he loves it when Sam just picks him up and moves him around any way he pleases.  He tries not to let on how much it turns him on, but Sam's kind of already figured it out, and then it becomes obvious anyway."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong Man

It wasn’t like Kevin had a fetish.  It was an _appreciation_.  An entirely respectful appreciation for Sam’s physical strength that sometimes expressed itself via hard-on.  Really, anyone would’ve been impressed watching Sam bench press 200 pounds in the bunker’s weight room, muscular arms straining, a fine sheen of sweat glistening across his broad chest, a downy peach fuzz of hair thickening into a trail as it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.  Kevin weighed significantly less than 200 pounds.  If he occasionally pictured Sam bench pressing him, well, that was between Kevin and his right hand.

They’d been having sex for a little over a month.  Sam was sweet, creative, and as thoroughly single-minded in his lovemaking as he was in everything else.  At first Kevin had thought Sam was being careful with him because he was a virgin, and he’d been more than a little relieved that Sam hadn’t insisted on the kind of rough, wall-slamming sex Kevin had half-dreaded and half-fantasized he’d be into. 

But after a few practice rounds Kevin had gotten over his nerves, and Sam was still tentative.  It was then Kevin had realized that maybe Sam’s delicacy and caution wasn’t just for his benefit.  Kevin knew that Sam might have his own reasons to be uneasy about sex, even if he’d never gotten the full backstory.  And knowing that, he couldn’t quite find the right moment to say, “Hey, if you ever wanted to pick me up and throw me bodily across that glorified Risk board in the war room, I’d be down.”  He didn’t have any experience suggesting sex stuff, and he didn’t want it to sound like an ultimatum.  He decided to wait until Sam brought it up.

The universe kept fucking with his good intentions, though.  Sam sparred with him regularly, and it was a real problem: the grabbing, the tussling on the floor, the bear hugs.  One time Sam swept him right off his feet and turned him upside down.  His thick arms felt like iron bars when Kevin tried to break his hold.  He was utterly helpless, his whole body pressed against Sam’s, and his cheek grazed against Sam’s thigh.  Sam dropped him on the mat more gently than he expected, and he tumbled in a half somersault and sprawled out, legs wide, flushed and panting for reasons unrelated to exertion. 

‘‘You’re doing great!” Sam said brightly.  If he noticed Kevin’s erection, he didn’t comment.

And then there was that day in the library, when Kevin was struggling to climb up a bookshelf to pull down a manuscript.  Sam came up behind him and lifted him up like he was a Kevin-shaped rag doll, the hands around his waist so big the fingers almost met at his belly button.

“Oh, wow!” Kevin said, because they were the only words he could think of to describe the experience.

Sam nuzzled between his shoulder blades, his nose drawing a line along his spine.  “Aren’t you going to grab the book?”  Kevin felt Sam’s lips move through his t-shirt.  

“Right, the book,” Kevin said, his voice thick.  He fumbled it off the shelf with clumsy fingers, and almost dropped the priceless ancient text on the ground before Sam set him back on his own feet. 

The bridal carry was the last straw.  Kevin was making excellent progress on the tablet, and Sam was a nag.  “Come to bed,” Sam said.

“In a minute.  I’m on a roll.”  Kevin hated to break his flow when the translation was going well.

“You’ve been on a roll for sixteen hours.  You can be on a roll tomorrow morning.  You need sleep.”  Sam folded his arms like a stern principal in an eighties teen movie.

“You don’t set my curfew.”  Kevin turned pointedly back to the tablet.  Next thing he was in the air.  He was swept up in Sam’s arms, his feet and head dangling free. 

“Bed time,” Sam said, and carried him down the hall.  Kevin made a show of struggling, but was careful not to actually break free.  Mostly he just squirmed around enough to enjoy the strength of Sam’s arms and the softness of the flannel button-down against his face. 

“Put me down!” Kevin protested against Sam’s chest, without much enthusiasm. 

Sam paused in his walk down the hallway.  “You don’t really want me to, do you?”  He was all dimples, like he knew damn well what the answer was, and it was equal parts annoying and adorable.             

Kevin hooked an arm around Sam’s neck and pulled himself up to a position that was a bit closer to face-to-face.  It felt more dignified.  “Not really.”

Sam kissed the shell of Kevin’s ear, his eyelashes tickling briefly against Kevin’s temple.  “Do you want me to, uh, to hold you up and fuck you?” he whispered.  He was trying to sound confident and dirty, but there was a catch in his voice, a tiny awkward instant of doubt.

The words gave Kevin a shivery thrill that curled his toes, just the same.  “If you’re into it, hell yeah.”

Sam practically sprinted to the bedroom after that, and the fact that he was able to do it while still carrying Kevin in his arms was all the foreplay Kevin needed.

Sam kicked the door of his bedroom shut behind them and set Kevin down just long enough to turn him around and push him face down against the desk.  Kevin braced himself against it, trembling with anticipation.  Sam’s hands ran down his chest and landed on his fly, popping the button.  He grabbed Kevin by one leg and then the other, lifting them up in the air as he tugged off his jeans and underwear, and then tossed them aside. 

When Kevin was naked from the waist down, dick aggressively hard and uncomfortably trapped between him and the tabletop, Sam laid a fond hand on his ass, gently kneading the flesh, while he fished around in the desk drawer.  Kevin heard the sound of a cap clicking open, and then of Sam unzipping his jeans.  Lube.  Holy fuck, this was happening.

Sam leaned over, his weight resting deliciously heavy on Kevin’s back, and brushed his hair aside to kiss his nape.  Sam’s breath was fast and ragged, hot against his neck.  Then he pulled back and grabbed Kevin under both thighs.  His feet were instantly off the ground, and whatever part of his weight that Sam wasn’t supporting was held up by his shaking forearms.  Kevin was moaning even before he felt the slick head of Sam’s cock pressing into him. 

Sam gave it to him slow and easy, a gentle rhythm that left Kevin desperate for more.  Kevin tried to rock back against him, force him to give more and harder, but his feet were dangling free in the air and it was all he could do to keep himself from landing forehead down against the desk.  He had no leverage to make Sam do anything, and that only made it hotter.  He writhed uselessly in Sam’s hands.

“You wriggle like a fish when you want it bad, you know that?”  Sam said between gasps. 

“Harder,” Kevin demanded, all eloquence gone from his head.  “Come on, give it to me already.”

“You’re bossy for a guy who likes getting manhandled this much,” Sam said, but he gave he Kevin what he wanted, using his grip on Kevin’s thighs to force him back roughly onto his cock.

Kevin groaned in time with the thrusts, fingers scrabbling against the slick wood.  There was nothing he could get a firm grip on, and he ended up sliding back and forth, his nails scraping layers of lacquer off what was surely some sort of Men of Letters heirloom. 

Sweat dripped down from Kevin’s hair, and he struggled to get breath into his lungs.  Somewhere along the way his hands slipped out from under him entirely, and his whole upper body was pressed against the desk. 

Sam shifted, letting one of Kevin’s legs fall, and slid his free arm under Kevin’s chest, taking his weight.  He pulled up the other leg higher than ever, so that Kevin’s free foot was balancing on tiptoe.  Sam was all around him now, leaning close over his back, the gentle stroke of his thumb across Kevin’s nipple a contrast to the rough pounding. 

Kevin was close, and he ached to get a hand back to touch his own cock, but there was no way to manage it at this angle.  He bucked frantically into the air, unable to find friction anywhere.  His hips weren’t even in reach of the desk anymore.  Then the hand around his chest slid down to his waist, and Sam lifted him clean off the table, all four limbs in the air, pinned like a bug on Sam’s dick, and he was done.  He came with a startled cry, and Sam dropped him back down against the desk, gave a half dozen quick thrusts, and groaned.

Sam stilled for a long moment afterward, his heavy weight resting on Kevin’s back.  Then he swept Kevin up in his arms one last time, and carried him the two feet to the bed.  Kevin was still in his t-shirt, but he was naked from the waist down, the rest of his clothes lost somewhere on the floor.  At another time it might have struck him as a particularly silly kind of nakedness, but he was too contented to care.    He crawled into Sam’s lap and began to develop an exhaustive list of furniture they could violate.

   


End file.
